CHAPTER TWELVE
The police station had that Sunday-morning-after-hangover vibe. I could see it had been a big night. There were mainly young men in their late teens to early twenties, searching for themselves, exerting their masculinity by fighting and showing that theirs was bigger. They straggled out. In the harsh light of day, they’d shrunk. Shuffling along, laden with regret, they stared down at their feet.
An older man sat behind his desk, staring out the window. He seemed lost in thought. Upon my entry, he turned and pointed to a chair. “Thanks for coming in so quickly. I’m Detective Max Hudson from the Homicide Special Section.”
I shook his hand. “This is about Bryce Beaumont, I take it?”
“Yeah. As you know, he was found murdered early yesterday morning.”
I nodded.
“We’ll need to know your whereabouts.”
Predictably, I was a suspect. Without flinching, I replied, “I was at my home in Malibu.”
“Can anyone vouch for that?”
“Yes, my fiancée, cook, security guy, and maid.”
“I’m aware that your fiancée, Clarissa Moone, was involved in a car-ramming incident Friday evening.”
I nodded. “Have you got any news on the driver?”
He shook his head. “All we’ve been able to ascertain from the wreckage is that it was a rented vehicle.”
“You don’t think Bryce could have been involved?”
“Nope. He was in Vegas at the time. We’ve got CCTV footage of him there to confirm that. He still had a plane ticket in his pocket when we found him dead. We traced credit card transactions back to a hotel in Vegas.”
“He wasn’t robbed when you found him?”
He shook his head. “He didn’t have any cash on him, but his credit cards and license were found on him.” He squared his shoulders. “Tell me about your relationship with the deceased.”
I took a deep breath. “We were in the Special Forces together in Afghanistan. After I set up the Veterans’ Health Center, I employed him to run it. I fired him after he caused trouble.”
“Mm… that’s the shortened version. You had him charged for an abduction attempt on your fiancée. He was out on bail when he was stabbed.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m still wondering who bailed him out.”
“All roads lead back to you, Thornhill.”
I shook my head. “What do you mean?”
“Your ex-fiancée, Jessica Mansfield, paid one million big ones to bail him out. She was also sleeping with him at the time of his murder.”
Even though that was old news for me, I kept that to myself.
“Okay, so she bailed him out.”
“The night of Bryce’s murder, your father left a message on the deceased’s phone. I can tell you it wasn’t for a pleasant chat. He left a threatening message.”
His stare penetrated. He scrutinized my face, seeking clues, but I remained stone-cold sober. I was good at that, despite the internal haywire.
My father had known of Bryce’s threats to bring down my empire. I recalled his suggestion to place a hit on Bryce after I expressed my despair at having to send more cash to buy his silence. Of course, that was no longer necessary. But Grant was not aware that I’d been exonerated. It had been a big month, and I hadn’t had a chance to catch up with him, partly due to his lack of availability since he started bedding Tabitha.
“My father’s many things, but a murderer he is not.”
“There’s one thing I’ve learned from this job. Many will murder to protect those they love. Bryce Beaumont was on the take. After your generous handouts stopped, he attempted to abduct your fiancée. Would you please explain why you were paying him large sums of money on a regular basis? Separate to his wage, of course.”
I ran my fingers through my hair. Fuck. This was martial law now. I knew he was out of his jurisdiction. “Bryce was blackmailing me over an incident in Afghanistan.”
He gesticulated for me to continue.
“It was an incident during an ambush, involving a fellow soldier. I have since been exonerated for it.”
He nodded slowly. “You went through a military tribunal?”
Sweat dripped down my back. “Not as such. I reported it to my superior and was cleared of any wrongdoing. At the time, Bryce played on my guilt. I was distressed after our platoon was nearly wiped out. My best buddy lay dying. I had to put him out of his misery before the Taliban made minced meat of him by dragging him through the streets as a trophy. I might add, we were miles away from the evacuation zone and surrounded by insurgents.”
His face pinched. Wearing the kind of haggard features of one who’d experienced the worst of humanity, Detective Hudson was an old man who looked as though he should have been at home, in slippers, reading the newspaper. “Sounds like a fucking nightmare. I was in ‘Nam.”
I drew a mock smile. “Vietnam wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, either.”
He nodded slowly. “You can say that again.” He puffed out a loud breath. “Okay, then, back to your father.”
“Detective Hudson, as I stated earlier, I can’t see how Grant could have done this. His motive is not strong enough. You see, he’s got a new, young, beautiful girlfriend. My father’s a weak man when it comes to women. He’s a hopeless romantic. I’ve never seen him as happy as he’s been of late. I can’t even begin to imagine him jeopardizing that by committing murder.”
He closed his book. “Okay, that will do for now.”
I stood up. “Can I bring in my own investigators with regard to the car incident? I need to know who’s behind it.”
His craggy brow lowered. “Have you got more enemies other than John Howard?”
Fuck. What didn’t they know? “You know about that?”
He tilted his head. “Sure do. He’s a brutish sonofabitch. And it’s no secret that he’s out for your head. I’d be stepping up security if I were you.”
“Can’t you lock up the fucker and throw away the key? He’s a dirty prick.”
“We know that. But he’s done the time.”
“Then why aren’t you watching him?”
He sniffed. “In a city like this, if we watched every murderous asshole released from prison, we’d need to quadruple our men on the ground. In any case, it doesn’t sound like the type of approach a violent murderer like Howard would take. Generally, with revenge, they like a slow, blood-churning approach so that they can watch their victim pleading all the way to the brutal end.”
My stomach sank to my feet. The memory of Howard’s savagery infested my spirit. On that cold note, I left the station with a heavy tread.